Flash Fiction

                                          Assassin 

Rose cocked her gun and aimed at the Ambassador. “Man I hope this works,” she thought. “I don't want to spend the rest of my life in jail.”  Putt! She missed. Luckily it's silenced, so no one heard it. She reloaded her gun with shaking hands and aimed again. Putt! She missed again. But this time she hit a gas pipeline, running along the walls. Boom! An explosion knocked Rose off her feet, sending her into unconsciousness.

Why didn't I just become a doctor or a singer? At least they don't have to shoot people for a living, Oh that's right, she couldn't become a doctor because she hadn't finished her studies. And she couldn't become a singer, because, even though she loved singing and that was her dream job, her voice was coarse. Or so her teacher had said, Rose thought. Rose had some trouble getting to the musical theatre since she couldn't read French. The streets were dimly lit. Rose had been nervous and tense the whole drive. The moment she was asked to open her guitar case, which was hiding her sniper, she almost told them it was in there. As the man opened it, she looked around for any cops. There were none. Maybe she could make a run for it. Lucky she didn't need to. It was disguised as a guitar. She was allowed in. She quickly went to her spot, a bridge above the stage covered by the lights. 

Rose struggled into an upright position to rest. Before she could figure out what was happening, guards came rushing in, along with the French ambassador, who was holding the broken remains of his chain medallion. The attempt to assassinate the French ambassador had failed. There was no way she could get out of this.

By Connor